Seduction Games: A #GeekLove Ménage Romance (Game for Cookies Book 1) Page 7

  Isaiah rested a hand at the small of my back. “Better?” he asked.

  I tried to look confident when I said, “Completely.”

  I was wrong. We settled in to game. The competition worked differently today. Every team had a set number of lives for each member and went one-on-one with another group. Once one set used their lives, the threesome still standing moved to the next still-standing block. Out of the remaining two hundred, the last fifty teams alive, would do the same thing this afternoon, with refreshed stats, until only eight were left.

  We didn’t fare well. From the moment they kicked off the start bell, I felt out of sorts with my friends. Barked commands held an edge that aggravated me. Each time I second-guessed their movements, I was wrong. Kane took a defensive position instead of pulling lead and going aggressive. None of it was right.

  A counter rested in the upper right corner of our screens, ticking down as each group dropped out. When it hit sixty, Kane and I only had one life each, and Isaiah was at two. By fifty five, Isaiah had lost the extra.

  I tried to keep my attention on the game, as the counter dropped toward fifty, but my focus was already fractured. I gripped my mouse so hard my fingers ached, and stars danced in front of my watering eyes as I strained to watch the screen.

  “Fuck,” Kane shouted in my headset. Seconds later, my own monitor exploded in a shower of red, indicating I’d been shot. The ticker hovered at fifty one.

  “Shit,” Isaiah yelled, and the ticker dropped to forty-nine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The round was over, and the judges needed to make a call about who lost all their lives first. When I twitched my fingers against my leg, Isaiah covered my hand. I gave him a weak smile, but I didn’t feel it.

  They flashed our names up on the winners board, fiftieth place and moving on. We should be celebrating. Whooping and hollering like last night. The best we managed was a round of half-hearted hugs and high-fives. They called a thirty-minute intermission, for everyone going to the next round to rest their eyes and stretch their legs.

  “Quick snack?” Isaiah tugged on my hand, to draw my attention.

  I couldn’t look at him. “I need to do… some stuff. I’ll grab something and meet you back here.”

  Kane shouldered past us without a word.

  “All right.” Isaiah sounded as if it was anything but. “Text me—us—if you change your mind.”

  “Sure.” I needed some air and to be away from all these people. I cut a straight line to the nearest exit and pushed outside. I closed my eyes in the bright light and turned my face toward the sun. The heat didn’t chase away the chill running under my skin, or the unshakable idea I wasn’t the only one fumbling and lost. I couldn’t do this. If the people around me struggled for answers, and I didn’t have them…

  I breathed in car exhaust and the sweltering summer. I’d already figured out one solution—how to deal with Glen—and I just needed to do it. Maybe I’d see if I could find him, and track down Isaiah and Kane after all. My stomach growled. Yeah, a snack before the next round was a good idea.

  I pulled my phone out as I made my way back inside. I got full bars in the competition room, but my text to Isaiah failed to go through. The number of glows illuminating pale faces had to be causing too much interference. I dragged my feet back toward the casino.

  Dante Larson, the chef we’d overheard last night, brushed past me. “Excuse me.” His tone was gruff.

  Go after him. There wasn’t time now. Not that I had the guts anyway, but the no-time excuse sounded better in my head.

  My step faltered, and my phone hand fell to my side. I barely had the presence of mind not to drop the device. Across the way, tucked back in a corner and almost hidden by slot machines, was Isaiah, head bowed close to Glen’s. Glen smiled, and then laughed. Isaiah said something else and shook his head. From where I stood, it looked as if they were both enjoying themselves.

  What the fuck? I turned away, frustration clawing at my throat. I hadn’t actually witnessed Isaiah flirting with the guy he encouraged me to hit on. I just had to ask Isaiah what they were talking about. It was time to stop worrying they might think my questions were stupid. I needed clarification, or I’d go insane balancing their friendship with my second-guessing.

  “Andi, hi.” Glen stepped in front of me, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  I could ask him what they’d talked about, but that didn’t feel right. The conversation I needed to have with Isaiah ran deeper than that curiosity. I did need to break off our date, though. “Hey. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Look, about later.” He watched his feet, as he shifted his weight from one to the other. “I can’t. This thing came up. Your friend. He… I have to— I’m sorry.” He shoved something toward me, and I realized it was my USB cable. “Good luck.” He turned away before he finished speaking, and was gone before I opened my mouth to reply.

  Anger and hurt boiled inside, obliterating all of the positive feelings I had moments ago. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. Had Isaiah actually been flirting with him? Did he go behind my back and interfere, despite all the pushing he and Kane had done to get me to that point? Either way, I wanted answers.

  I paced the short length of floor near the doors, trying to bring my emotions under control. The part of me that hated confrontation and preferred to let other people make the decisions wanted me to swallow these feelings. Stow them, paste on a smile until I believed myself, and go back in that room to win with my friends. Or at least, make it to the final eight.

  “Players, the next round begins in two minutes.”

  The voice over the loudspeaker bounced in my head. Shit. I didn’t realize I’d been out here so long. How had I missed the ten- and five-minute warnings?

  I shoved my frustrations deep down inside and made my way back to our station. The room wasn’t crowded the same way. Now most people sat in rows, watching the large screens at the front of the auditorium. There was more room at each table. Space to breathe. We’d made it this far; we could push to the next round.

  The moment I saw Isaiah, my resolve poofed, and I stalked toward him. “What the hell did you say to him?”

  “Dee.” He grabbed my wrist loosely. “It wasn’t—”

  “Thirty seconds.” The announcer’s voice drowned out all chatter in the room, loud enough my ears rang even after he stopped talking.

  Isaiah let go of me, but he didn’t drop my gaze. “I’ll explain.”

  “Save it.” I fell into my seat, jammed on my headphones, and tried to find the right frame of mind just as the game kicked off.

  My focus was anywhere but on the match. Everything any of us said was clipped and gruff. I couldn’t find the pistol I wanted, Kane charged into the middle of ambushes again and again, and Isaiah missed half the shots he took with the sniper rifle.

  Our lives ticked away as quickly as our ammo. The fifty-team count dropped to forty-five, and then forty. As my screen turned red, taking my last life with it, the competition counter hit thirty-nine. We were out.

  “Shit.” Kane ripped off his headset and flung it across the table.

  I rubbed my face, trying to scrub away the tension, but it didn’t matter. Disappointment welled inside, carried on the knowledge we could have done better. That whatever fucked with our heads right now cost us this competition. Worse, it may have cost us something far more important. I clenched my fist until my nails dug into my palm. My thoughts echoed Kane’s shout.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I jammed my gear into its bag. I should be crying, right? Sobbing with tears of disappointment? The feeling wasn’t there. Around us, as more people were eliminated, it was the same. Instead of the fanfare of winning—the glee of going to the next round—the losers like us packed up their equipment. It was over, and I couldn’t bring myself to pour any more emotion into the loss.

  I whirled on Isaiah. “What did you say to him?”

  He exhaled through his teeth and fu
rrowed his brow. “I’m sorry. I… It was your choice to make. I shouldn’t have taken it from you.”

  “Isaiah.” I snipped off his name. “Tell me.”

  “That’s what I did. I told him.” Isaiah shouldered his laptop bag, blue eyes peering into my soul, searching for something I didn’t think he’d find. “That you were coming down from a breakup. That the last guy cheated on you. That he should be careful how he handled you.”

  The confession didn’t provide me the satisfaction I hoped for. It should have given me a reason to be furious or to hate him or to be able to walk away. “You’re right. That was my call to make, not yours.” My retort lacked passion.

  “Sorry you missed out on your grudge fuck.” Kane didn’t project any of the sympathy or regret Isaiah did.

  “Bullshit, you are.” I glared at Kane. “I don’t know what your issue is. Before now, this all went exactly the way you said you wanted. Except I don’t know if that’s true. You’re pushing me with all this ask-if-you-want-it crap, and I can’t get a solid read on you to save my sanity.”

  “So just—”

  I held up my hand. “I swear to all that’s holy, if you tell me to just ask, things will never be the same between us again.”

  “Because we have any chance of going back to that?” His question was bitter.

  “Good point.” I hated hearing him say it as much as I loathed that I couldn’t argue. “I’m out of here.” I whirled toward the exit. Walking away from them hurt far worse than losing the competition had. Ached more than finding James fucking another woman. Dug deeper than any disappointment I’d felt in a long time.

  I didn’t know where I was going, as I stepped from the casino. To another hotel room? That felt a little ridiculous. It certainly didn’t tie into my realization I needed to talk to Isaiah and Kane, to twist my head on straight. Then again, I wasn’t the only one who’d been holding back. Could I blame them? Sure, they’d peddled this stupid say-what’s-on-your-mind spiel without meaning it themselves. It was sound advice, though, regardless of whether or not they believed it.

  I wanted to go back and scream and yell, and make things right with them, but it wouldn’t do me any good. There was no way to fix this. Kane had that right. I’d gotten sucked into a fantasy that wasn’t mine.

  And then I found a target for the disaster that was my mental state. James stood in the taxi line, staring off at nothing. Or maybe at the cute blond bending over to tuck something in her luggage.

  “You stayed this long?” I asked, to get his attention.

  He whirled, eyes wide, and then a smile spread over his face. “Andr— Andi. I wanted to see you compete. You did well.”

  “We sucked. We haven’t played that poorly in ages.” It felt good to admit it. Cleansing.

  “Nah. You’re being hard on yourself.” He reached for me, and I stepped back. He frowned. “I’m sorry about everything. Have dinner with me. Let me explain.”

  Instinct wanted me to say, all right. Even if I had no intention of forgiving him, he might surprise me. He obviously thought he had something worth telling me. Who was I to argue? “No.”

  “Andrea.”

  A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Why does it even matter? Why try so hard to convince me we need another chance, when you were the one cheating on me?”

  “Are you serious? Have you ever even been a part of this relationship?”

  I snapped my jaw shut before it could drop open. “You’re going to ask me that after months of rolling over and ignoring me in bed?”

  “What was I going to do? Compete for your attention with those jackasses you call gaming buddies? Why even go out with me, if you already hooked up with them? Which one of them are you fucking? I’m guessing the blond one. ”

  The barrage of questions knocked my anger off balance, but I recovered quickly. “They’re friends. Guess what, asshole. Guys and girls can be friends without it being about sex. Apparently, after my time with you, guys and girls can even date without it being about sex. I never cheated on you.”

  “The first thing you did was run into his arms.” James was yelling now, and people stared.

  I should have. The thought came from nowhere and settled in, feeling comfortable amid the tension. “If you weren’t happy, why didn’t you just break up with me?”

  His upper lip pulled into a sneer. “That’s what you ask. You don’t want to know why I didn’t talk to you, or why we couldn’t work it out. Were you ever happy with me?”

  The question sucked the venom from my retort, mingling with similar thoughts I’d had for the last few days. I believed I was. James said we were good together; I figured he saw something I didn’t. He said he loved me; I assumed he knew what he was talking about. When he suggested we move in together, my mind said, why the hell not. I shook my head. “No. I wasn’t.”

  He stepped back from me. “Then I don’t know why I stayed this long.”

  Was it really all my fault? I’d gone into this relationship under false pretenses. Led James on. Made him believe I felt something I didn’t. Except at the time, I was sure my feelings were real.

  “Goodbye, Andrea.”

  It was that name. It dug under my skin, and burrowed into my thoughts. Sparked already swelling irritation. He’d never gotten my name right. When I was annoyed, he managed to remember for a minute or two that I hated my full name. The rest of the time, no matter how many times I reminded him, he insisted Andrea was pretty, so that was what he’d call me.

  That wasn’t the only thing though. Insisting on ordering peppers on the entire pizza, even though I hated them. Accidentally throwing out frosting samples Julie made me, to make sure I could paint on them.

  Mixed with the wash of realization was every kind gesture Isaiah and Kane had made without hesitation since they picked me up in Omaha. Even before then. They knew more about me than James ever bothered to learn, and I’d never met them in person until a few days ago.

  I gave James my sweetest smile and let sugar spill into my voice. “Goodbye, James. I’ll be by to get my stuff when you’re not home. I’ll leave my key on the table.”

  “You can’t—”

  “And I never want to see you again. We’re done. It’s over.”

  “You’re not going to at least try to fix things?”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “There’s nothing to fix. We’ve always been broken. You don’t fucking respect me. You never have. I don’t know why you’re still talking to me. Ego? You need someone to help pay the rent? It doesn’t matter. This conversation is over, and so are we.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Are you upstairs? I sent the text to Isaiah and Kane. It was a relief to watch James ride off in a cab. He took more baggage with him than I realized I was carrying. Kane was right that we couldn’t go back to what we had before, and maybe they didn’t want me to be a part of their life in an intimate way, but I had to tell them how I felt. It might be a selfish decision, but I was tired of letting other people make up my mind for me.

  Yes. Isaiah’s message buzzed through. You coming up?

  Yes. I wouldn’t say more until we were face to face. I didn’t want any room for misinterpretation.

  Moments later, I slid the key into the hotel-room lock. The door jerked open, the handle pulling from my grasp and startling me. Isaiah met me. He studied me, and then grasped my face between his hands. When he crushed his mouth to mine, a whimper escaped my chest. My head swam, and I wanted to sink into the gesture. It would be so easy to just enjoy this kiss—the way his thumbs traced my cheekbones, his tongue dancing with mine, his teeth catching my lip when he broke away.

  This had the potential to hurt, but it was better than pretending. “Stop,” I forced myself to say. I struggled to catch my breath. “I can’t… I mean, I can—I really want to—but I can’t.”

  Isaiah trailed his palms down my arms, to grasp my fingers, and tugged me the rest of the way into the room. Kane stood behind him, arms crossed, watching us. I
couldn’t read his expression, and that strengthened my resolve even more.

  I looked at Isaiah. “I know you’re a touchy-feely person. Hugs, and this.” I held our hands up. “But I can’t take things to the level we have. Not in person. Making this friends-with-benefits relationship physical, bringing it into the real world, is more than I’m equipped for. So I’m sorry, but we need to dial this back.”

  I don’t know what I expected Isaiah to do, but it wasn’t to look over his shoulder at Kane, then back at me with a smile. “I’m not a touchy-feely person.” He stroked his thumb over the back of my knuckles. “And honestly, this is wearing on me. I only act like this with him”—he jerked his head toward Kane—“and you.”

  “No, no, no.” I couldn’t hear this. It wasn’t helping. I wanted his words to mean something, but without confirmation, they didn’t. “You can’t do that. You can’t just spit these things out, wrapped in the just-friends excuse we’ve always clung to. I need you to spell this out for me. Here. I’ll start.” I faltered, the confession freezing in my throat. I swallowed hard to dislodge it. “I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way, but here with you… I love you.” It was terrifying and a relief to hear my own voice say that. “Both of you. And I know you were together before I came along, and you probably didn’t go into this expecting me to feel this way, and I’m sorry if I took things wrong, but I—”

  Isaiah kissed me again and swallowed my rambles. He let go of me and stepped back. “Expecting it? No. Not really. Hoping?” He moved aside and pointed me toward Kane. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

  At first I thought Isaiah was still talking to me, even as my mind tripped over what he meant. Then Kane looked past me, and I realized he was Isaiah’s target.

  Isaiah stood close enough to me that his heat radiated into my back. His voice was calm and even. “This is getting old, and it’s going to break us. We’ve already started to fall apart. We should have made it further, down there. I’m not saying that because it matters we lost. This competition was a whim. We all knew that. The reason I care is because we click better than that, and something has fucked us up. Tell her, or you and I may start to fall apart too.”